


Triple Feature

by MyMisguidedFairytale



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Baking, Challenge Response, Crime Fighting, Drabble Collection, Emotions, F/M, Gift Fic, Hunter association - Freeform, M/M, Multi, No Dialogue, Outer Space, Power Outage, Rain, Request Meme, Sharing, Short & Sweet, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMisguidedFairytale/pseuds/MyMisguidedFairytale
Summary: [A collection of drabbles from challenge prompts and events || PariCheadle, PariGing, GingCheadle]01. It was hard to decide which she hated more: storms, or Pariston.02. Pariston is irritatingly considerate.03. The only thing he knew was that Pariston had not just stumbled across an obscure recipe from the place closest to Ging’s past.04. They were standing back to back, fighting the thugs that had stupidly decided to rob Swaldani City’s largest bank in the middle of the day.05. It’s what he leaves unsaid that’s more important than any of the things that come out of his mouth.06. AU: The Galactic Federation was Ging’s least favorite place to be, and he was rather certain that the Federation’s leader was his least favorite person in the galaxy.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> _Triple Feature_ is a combination of drabbles originally written and published on July 08, 2014 and October 31, 2014 on tumblr.
> 
> Everything below is preserved as it was originally posted:

##  _Triple Feature_

**Title** : Into the Storm  
 **Pairing** : Slight Cheadle x Pariston  
 **Word Count** : 434  
 **For** : anonymous, for a drabble challenge prompt.  
 **A/N** : Takes place pre-Chairman Election arc. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/101387141997/paricheadle-96-in-the-storm-3).

_**Into the Storm** _

With the upcoming Hunter Exam, the entire office had been hard at work preparing. And while the Exam committee and the Zodiac Twelve had things well under control, it still fell to the Association’s higher leadership to put in the extra hours to ensure the event went off without a hitch.

So when Cheadle finally looked at the clock and saw it was three hours after she would have normally left, she looked at all the other empty desks and knew she still had at least another hour to go before she could call it a night.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, then went out. Cheadle stumbled to her feet and made her way to the window, lifting the closed blinds to reveal a dark, angry sky and heavy rain.

She had thought she was the only one left in the building, but a few minutes later she heard footsteps in the hallway and the creak of the office door opening wider. Cheadle’s eyes were adjusting quickly to the darkness, but the brightness of a flashlight beam temporarily blinded her to the identity of its owner.

“My dear Cheadle!” It was Pariston. Of course he would be the only other person there. “How like you to be working late. Looks like we’ll have to fix this little problem ourselves, hmm? Would you like to come with me to find the power breakers?”

She didn’t think sitting alone in a dark office was much of a fun alternative, so she agreed, keeping up with his quick footsteps as he led the way down to the lowest floor of the building.

There was a large clap of thunder, and Cheadle jumped.

“Do you not like storms?” Pariston asked, his tone conversational.

“Not particularly,” Cheadle answered.

Pariston produced the keys to the maintenance closet, and pressed the flashlight into Cheadle’s hands. “Hold this for me. Ah, storms this bad never last for long. We’ll be fine.”

Once inside, he quickly began work to reset the power systems. “It all runs electronically,” he told her, speaking continuously to distract her from the storm. “We might have to reboot the system—even if the power comes back there’s no guarantee everything in the building will work properly.” He laughed softly to himself. “Like the electronic locks on the front doors. We might be stuck here a little longer than we thought.”

She’d thought Pariston was being suspiciously kind to her earlier; now, she felt that familiar irritation for him returning. The unspoken, ‘we might be stuck here _together_.’

It was hard to decide which she hated more: storms, or Pariston.

* * *

**Title** : Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head  
**Pairing** : Slight Cheadle x Pariston  
**Word Count** : 223  
**Summary** : Pariston is irritatingly considerate.  
**A/N** : Takes place pre-Chairman Election arc. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/91103243297/fanfiction-hunter-x-hunter-raindrops-keep).

_**Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head** _

It’s raining, heavily, the kind that starts and stops so suddenly that Cheadle has some hope of out-waiting it in the offices of the Hunter Association building. That hope had died about fifteen minutes ago, but if there’s something she hates more than rain it’s wasting her time, so with all busywork done she slowly makes her way downstairs.

A familiar figure in a pinstriped suit stands under the building’s awning. At the noise from the automatic doors, he turns. The curtain of glittering rain behind him almost looks like sparkles.

“No umbrella.” He holds up his empty hands, managing to look apologetic without sounding it in the slightest.

“Don’t you like to say that you should always be prepared for any situation? Rat.”

“My dear Cheadle. You don’t have one either.” Smiling broadly, he shrugs out of his pinstriped jacket and holds it above Cheadle’s head. “I’ll walk with you to your car. As it happens, I’m going the same way.” He prods her forward with one arm.

She knows that nothing he does is ever by coincidence. She tells him so, and he laughs loudly in her ear.

“Maybe someday you’ll believe that enough to actually act on it. Today is not that day, though, is it?”

She thinks that maybe it’s Pariston she hates most of all. Today, at least.

* * *

**Title** : Cookies  
**Pairing** : Slight Ging x Pariston  
**Word Count** : 204  
**For** : blue-mint-winter, for a drabble challenge prompt.  
**A/N** : Takes place pre-Chairman Election arc. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/101395209457/im-sorry-blue-mint-winter-i-couldnt-come-up-with).

_****_ ****

**_Cookies_ **

During a break in one of their meetings–the mandatory one, where they approved the quarterly budget, or else Ging would have found something more useful to do with his time–Pariston came back with a tin of cookies he said he’d made from a recipe he’d found online. From what he could hear, they were a big hit with the Zodiacs. Ging wasn’t planning on taking any, but when Pariston waved the tin in front of his face, he got a better look at them and froze.

Lemon lavender cookies were a specialty native to Whale Island. There was no way Pariston didn’t know that. Ging reached for one, watching Pariston for his reaction.

“What do you think?”

Ging chewed slowly; perhaps Pariston had made them to get a rise out of Ging, or to unsettle him. It had been years since he’d eaten such a thing, after all, and the memories were returning with every bite. The only thing he knew was that Pariston had not just stumbled across an obscure recipe from the place closest to Ging’s past. Maybe Pariston had made them for no other reason than for Ging himself.

He swallowed. “I’ve had better,” he said. He wanted another.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

**Title** : Blood  
 **Pairing** : Cheadle x Pariston  
 **Word Count** : 256  
 **For** : fellaqua, for the challenge prompt _paricheadle and 17. blood_.   
**A/N** : Takes place pre-Chairman Election arc. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/132238670132/for-the-number-thing-paricheadle-and-17-blood).

_**Blood** _

They were standing back to back, fighting the thugs that had stupidly decided to rob Swaldani City’s largest bank in the middle of the day. On their lunch break, with the police on their way, the two were trying to make quick work of their assailants before they had to get back for an important committee meeting.

“We didn’t even get to cash those checks!” Cheadle flips one of the robbers over her shoulder, using a harsh jab to the wrist to get him to drop the gun he carries. Pariston, instead, is dispatching their assailants with much more vigor, clearly enjoying the diversion.

When one of the masked thugs lunges at Pariston with a knife, he grabs their arm in a hold assisted with _Nen_ , driving the point of the knife instead into their own shoulder. It crunches through both skin and bone, and the thug staggers back against the wall, leaving a trail of blood as they collapse.

Cheadle can feel the aura already localizing at her fists, ready for her use. The police burst through the doors as she makes to move towards the injured man, more blood flowing over the palm pressed tight against the wound.

Instead, Pariston stops her with a hand to her shoulder. “I should heal him,” she says.

He has not lost an ounce of composure, and even when he does something as simple as adjust his suit jacket, she imagines him treating the movement as he did his assault on their attackers. “Don’t waste your _Nen_.”

* * *

**Title** : Desperation  
 **Pairing** : Cheadle x Ging  
 **Word Count** : 270  
 **For** : fellaqua, for the challenge prompt _send a ship with any emotion and I will write a small ficlet conveying said emotion between those characters without using dialogue_.   
**A/N** : Takes place during the Chairman Election arc. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/132246615117/for-the-chip-emotion-thing-cheadleging-with).

_****_ ****

**_Desperation_ **

He scowls at her, at her unending inability to grasp the various gradations of the politics at play, how time after time of dealing with Pariston she still cannot say she knows his mind at all. No matter how he explains it to her, she is one to focus on the immediate, and although she may be well-matched with them both and more intelligent than either, she does not learn and she does not listen.

Not to him, at least. Nor to Pariston, although it’s what he leaves unsaid that’s more important than any of the things that come out of his mouth.

He has to look away, to shift his balance and glance at the flowers in the alcoves lining the hallway so as not to look in her eyes. They’re her best feature, even with the glasses, and they’re harder to resist than he would have thought. So he answers her as best he can, even as her eyes plead with him for more. She’ll be happier when they’re all gone, he’s sure, even as she clings on to them both in her own way. And he’s good at that, at leaving. If she were a spiteful person, she would tell him it’s because he has a lot of practice at it.

When he turns away, after they’ve spoken in the corridors of the Hunter Association, she reaches out to him, too slowly for her glove to brush the back of his scarf. Still, he doesn’t hear her arm drop until he’s far away, and she doesn’t turn and leave until he is at last out of sight.

* * *

**Title** : Space  
 **Pairing** : Pariston x Ging  
 **Word Count** : 452  
 **For** : battlecities, for the challenge prompt _PariGing + Outer Space AU_.   
**A/N** : AU, obviously. Crossposted from tumblr [here](https://cheadle-yorkshire.tumblr.com/post/132245081822/or-ging-and-pariston-whichever-you-like).

_**Space** _

The Galactic Federation was Ging’s least favorite place to be, and he was rather certain that the Federation’s leader was his least favorite person in the galaxy. Which said a lot. There had to be…at least ten billion people in the galaxy? Maybe twenty? He wasn’t up to date with the census. That was the Federation’s job.

And they were very, very good at their jobs.

The bureaucracy of their headquarters was a special kind of hell, and Ging had spent the past few hours navigating the spartan, busy offices, trying to submit his paperwork to get approval on his newest projects excavating a far-off planet, barely even in Federation jurisdiction. First he’d needed a certain license, then stamps from three different departments signing off on the project, and submit payment receipts to the primary treasury office, before finally one of the clerks had told him that the entire thing was irrelevant if he couldn’t get express approval from Director Hill.

Director Pariston Hill, his least favorite person, who seemed to derive a disproportionate amount of pleasure from making Ging molder around in waiting rooms for the entire day. Whose signature stood out on every late tax form and spaceship parking infraction notice that seemed to show up on Ging’s desk, no matter where he went, imploring an audience with the Director to settle some nominal fine or matter of little consequence.

Then, like a tidal wave, the man himself swept into the room, robes glittering at his wrists and hem in an odd assortment of moody colors.

“Ging!” The enthusiasm in his voice was matched only by the earnest sway as he displayed the edge of the robe, swiveling from side to side to show it off. “Do you like it? There’s a race in deep space that have more cones in their eyes than humans, and they made this for me! Not that you can appreciate it, but just imagine it with three times the depth of colors.” He swishes the long edge of the robe again.

“It’s ridiculous, but I expect no less from you, Paris.” He can already feel a headache coming on.

“If you don’t like it, you can help me out of it.” At Ging’s silence, Pariston laughs, something overly loud and just as orchestrated as the rest of his persona, and claps Ging on the back, eyeing his dirty coat with distaste. “Or we can talk about your new project. There’ll be time for other things later, hmm?”

Ging liked to think he was only here because of the paperwork, but as he followed Pariston into his office, he had to wonder why, after all this time, he still kept coming back.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Thank you for reading! I would appreciate and value your comments.


End file.
